


Andy and the Enby

by Jackdaw816



Category: Torchwood
Genre: First Meetings, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackdaw816/pseuds/Jackdaw816
Summary: Andy needs a drink and John's thirsty
Relationships: Andy Davidson/John Hart
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Andy and the Enby

**Author's Note:**

> My need for John/Andy content + my need for trans!John content = this queer romp of a fic

Andy wasn’t sure why he was in the bar that night. But he was despite its reputation. Or maybe because of its reputation. He’d always known that he wasn’t as straight-laced as he appeared. But he’d never had the gall to act on any of his… less-conventional urges.

But then he’d joined Torchwood. Well, not joined. Officially, he was their police liaison. Unofficially, he cleaned up their shit. Lots of paperwork and cover stories. (Duties passed onto him by Ianto since Jack had promoted him, the lucky sod.) It was eye-opening work, but the tedium was grating. He needed a drink. Or two.

And so there he was, staring into a half-empty glass of whiskey, listening to the thump of the music and trying to act like he wasn’t intimidated by the sea of men around him. He glanced up at the rainbow flag displayed not so discreetly behind the bar. He hoped no one would try to approach him. (Although, if he really wanted that, he would have drunk at home.)

The song changed twice before someone sidled up beside him. Well, he didn’t really sidle. More accurately, he sat down on the next stool, gave Andy a once-over, then took the glass out of his hand and drained it.

“Oi!” Andy complained. The man just grinned and set the glass down with a thunk.

“It’s swill. I’ll get you something better.” He signaled the bartender, and within moments, they had full glasses in front of them. Andy eyed him carefully but took a drink. It was actually really good, and he tried not to let it show on his face. The man clucked his tongue at Andy’s careful sip and slammed his own drink back.

“Who are you?” Andy asked, watching as he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his bright red military-style coat. It was garish, but it actually suited him quite well. 

“John Hart,” he said, extending a limp hand. Andy took it. His palm was calloused, and his grip was brutal. “I thought you’d recognize me.” Andy frowned, eyes flickering over John. He did seem vaguely familiar, but Andy had never been very good with faces. And he would have remembered those icy blue eyes. And those cheekbones. 

“Why did you think I’d recognize you?” Andy ask

“Well, you are Torchwood, aren’t you?” John said, a little too loudly. Andy glanced around, but no one had noticed, no heads were turning. John chuckled watching him scan the crowd. “Relax. You’d have to scream ‘fire’ to get any of their attention. Or ‘free drinks.’ That’ll always draw a crowd.”

“How do you know?” Andy hissed, feeling the burden of the secret on his shoulders. John seemed completely unphased. Andy wondered if anything could turn the blasé man serious.

“I’m… an associate of sorts. I help out if the mood suits me or if the world would fall apart without me.” He grinned. “And you must be Gwen’s old partner.” His smile dropped. “The cop.” 

“That’s right. I’m their police liaison,” Andy said, not liking the look in John’s eyes. “Sergeant Davidson.” He hesitated a moment before smiling. “Andy.”

“Andy,” John said slowly, almost as if he were savoring the syllables. “Suits you.” He smirked, something lighting up his eyes. “So if you’re a copper, does that mean you have handcuffs? ‘Cause I’m always game for a good set of cuffs.” Andy blushed and turned his gaze back to his drink. God, he reminded him of-

“So you know Jack?” John laughed.

“As well as myself and not at all,” he said. At some point, he’d gotten another drink, and he drank deeply now. “Gwen’s your old partner; Jack’s mine. But I’m guessing you never got anywhere with Ms. Cooper-Williams.” He wiggled his fingers of his left hand.

“No,” Andy muttered. John gave him a sympathetic look. “But it was just a crush.”

“Fair enough. You can’t work in such close tandem without catching feelings of some sort.” John shook his head. “But they’re not here now, are they?”

“No, they’re not,” Andy said, grinning. Connection established, the conversation flowed easily. And so did the drinks. John told him stories he would have fobbed off as lies before but now believed with a sick sort of glee.

“Really? Mascots?” Andy laughed. John shuddered.

“Pure evil,” he said. He drained the rest of his drink then slammed his empty glass down. “So, you want to get out of here?” Andy frowned, feeling the liquor numbing his senses. 

“But I’m having fun,” he said, realizing a moment too late just how stupid that sounded. John laughed, a beautiful sound that sent shivers down Andy’s spine. Below the bar, he laid his hand on Andy’s knee. The heat seemed to rush through him and Andy wondered how much of it was the liquor and how much of it was John.

“I don’t doubt it,” John murmured. “But take me back to yours and I’ll show you how much more fun we could be having.” He could smell John’s cologne, strong, heady, and undeniably him. He could walk away right now, but why would he want to?

Andy leaned in and kissed the smirk right off of John’s lips. John kissed him right back, the hand on his knee moving steadily up his thigh, the other moving to cup Andy’s face. And although he’d never kissed a bloke before, he knew John was good. He opened his mouth in a gasp, and John slipped his tongue in, and god, he was in heaven. But he wanted more. Reluctantly, Andy broke the kiss. John licked his lips, eyes dark.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, grinning. Andy grabbed his hand.

“Let’s get out of here,” Andy said, his voice unexpectedly raspy. John nodded and let Andy drag him out of the bar. Out on the street, Andy bit back a curse. His flat was ten minutes away by car, and Andy didn’t think he could keep his hands off John for that long. And he doubted a cabbie would tolerate any hanky-panky in the backseat.

It seemed John was having the same thoughts because now it was Andy’s turn to be dragged along. The alley beside the bar was surprisingly neat for being an alley, Andy noted. And then he didn’t have the brainpower to notice anything more because John was pushing him up against the wall and kissing him again.

The brick was cold, but John chased the chill away. His hands ran everywhere, leaving trails of heat against Andy’s skin. Andy gave as good as he got, matching John’s ferocity in his kiss, tracing his hands over John’s lithe, but powerful frame. Andy may have had the height advantage, but if this were a fight rather than a shag, he didn’t doubt he would lose.

“So, how do you want to do this?” John murmured, voice rough in a way that had Andy aching for more. It took a moment for the words to filter through to this brain.

“I dunno,” Andy said, suddenly nervous. “I've never actually done this with a man before." And for a moment, he feared the worse. John was older, experienced, and very very handsome. He could have anyone he wanted; maybe he would decide that Andy wasn’t worth his time. And maybe he would be right.

"Well, good thing I'm not a man then,” John said, grinning companionably. He kissed Andy before he could respond. He moved with more intent now, one hand slipping into Andy’s trousers and - oh shit, that felt good. But he couldn’t just-

Andy pushed John away from him, mourning the lack of contact. But he couldn’t think when John was touching him like that. John pouted at him, and Andy really wanted to say sod it all and let John work his magic. But he had to know.

“You’re not a man?” Andy asked. John raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “But you don’t… look like a woman.” His tone was awkward, but luckily, John didn’t seem mad. Maybe fondly irritated.

“‘Cause I’m not a woman either,” John said, easily slipping into a more serious tone despite his disheveled state. “I’m a little bit both, a little bit neither.” He shrugged. “But I’m not a man. I needed to get that straight.”

“The only thing straight about you,” Andy murmured reflexively. He flinched, but then John started to laugh.

“Now, that’s right.” He caught Andy’s mouth in another kiss, and Andy relaxed under his touch. Whoever John was, Andy didn’t care. All that matter was that he was there and warm under Andy’s touch, and his hands were _very_ talented, and all he could think was here and now and warm and touch and-

“Oh god,” Andy panted, resting his head on John’s shoulder. John chuckled lowly, the vibrations sinking deep into Andy’s bones. 

“It’s John, but I’m flattered,” he teased. Andy joined his laughter, and they leaned against the wall as their laughter petered out. Andy did up his fly and tried to make himself look like he hadn’t just orgasmed in a back alley. Speaking of-

“Did you-” Andy asked pointlessly. Of course, he hadn’t; Andy had barely touched him. Sure enough, John shook his head.

“But the night’s not over yet,” he said with a smile. “Now that you’ve got the edge off, let’s get someplace with a bed. You can repay the favor then.”

“Yeah,” Andy agreed enthusiastically. Stumbling back into the street, John hailed a taxi, and they collapsed into the backseat laughing and kissing. John gave the cabbie directions to what must have been his flat. Andy didn’t really care. Anywhere they could be alone.

“So, wait,” Andy murmured, breaking away from a very pleasant kiss as the thought occurred to him. John just turned his attention from his mouth to his neck. “If you’re not a guy-” John nipped at his neck, and Andy had to stifle an unflattering noise. “If you’re not a guy, then should I use male pronouns for you? Or something else?” John pulled back, face strangely neutral.

“You know, I think you’re the first person in this backward time to actually ask,” John said thoughtfully. “He/him is fine. Causes the least trouble. Not that I don’t like trouble, but even I have to pick my battles.” Andy kissed him, running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t tell me what’s fine and what’s easiest,” Andy murmured against John’s lips. “Tell me what you want.” He kissed John again, and he could feel him smile into it.

“They,” John whispered. “I want you to use he/they pronouns.” 

“Alright,” Andy said before kissing them soundly. He could feel the pressure building up again; John brought out the worst in him or maybe it was the best. His kisses grew desperate, John’s cologne in his nose, their taste in his mouth. “John,” he complained, voice unhandsomely needy.

“Relax, gorgeous,” John purred, kissing over Andy’s jaw. “We’re almost there.” He kissed him once on the mouth, then pulled away, adjusting himself like they hadn’t just been snogging like teenagers. Sure enough, the cab pulled to a stop outside a block of flats. John paid the cabbie, and they got out, offering Andy his hand.

“So, you live here?” Andy asked politely as the cab pulled away. John nodded.

“Third floor. Excellent soundproofing and no nosy neighbors,” he said. He wound an arm around Andy’s waist as they walked, entirely too close and not close enough at all. As much as Andy enjoyed kissing him, he wanted to prove to them that he wasn’t just the pretty boy gay virgin. He had tricks up his sleeve too. Although, something occurred to him.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Andy said, watching as John fumbled with the door key. 

“Hm?” they said, giving the key a brutal twist and yanking the door open. “What, curious about my plumbing?” Andy blinked in surprise; yes, that was exactly what he was going to ask. John looked back at him and winked. “They’re always curious.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have asked, but it seems rather relevant now,” Andy backpedaled, following John inside. He laughed as they made their way up the stairs.

“So polite,” John said, their tone indicating that wasn’t necessarily a positive trait. “But why tell when I can show?” He looked over his shoulder and winked. Andy blushed. He really wasn’t much one for voyeurism, but John seemed up for anything and everything. Their confidence was really hot actually.

“Alright,” Andy said, unsure what else to say. They reached the third floor a moment later, Andy’s breathing slightly quicker from exertion and anticipation.

“So, you never answered my question from earlier,” John said lightly, fumbling with his keys. Andy looked at them, confused. He winked. “Do you have cuffs?” Andy blushed but nodded. “Brilliant.” The key went into the lock with a solid click, and John opened the door. “Now, this is going to be fun.” He grabbed Andy by the collar, kissed him roughly, then dragged him into their flat. 


End file.
